


The Beginning

by AgentInfinity



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Fingerfucking, Homophobic Slurs, Internalized Homophobia, Light BDSM, Multi, Oral Sex, Quick mention of less than light bdsm, Threesome - F/F/M, Voyeurism, a one-line mention of suicide, mentions of drug/alcohol use, nothing too kinky beyond the fact that it's a threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 00:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11702661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentInfinity/pseuds/AgentInfinity
Summary: How 'we' became 'three'.





	The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh. Yeah. This is pretty autobiographical of a relationship my husband and I had with a third person for a while. The names have been changed for the most part because it made me feel less terrified about posting it. Thank Miss Noccalula for being a pretty huge advocate for me putting this out there. (http://archiveofourown.org/users/Noccalula, seriously go read her stuff, she's fucking amazing.) It's also in first person, past tense, which is something I'm not great at, and it's unbeta'd, so if you see a mistake, let me know. I think I tagged everything that might be triggery, but if I missed something you think should be tagged, let me know that as well.
> 
> Enjoy. <3

The night I met her was, in many ways, forgettable. I was nursing a high on a bench outside of my dorm, the stars twinkling much more brightly than usual for being in the middle of the city. It’s also entirely possible that my doped-up brain was seeing city lights and mistaking them for stars or seeing things that weren’t there.

I had just broken up with my on-again, off-again boyfriend of two years. It definitely had something to do with my continued use of recreational drugs that he no longer used.

(In hindsight, he was right, something I’d never admit to him despite marrying him years later.)

I had locked my keys in my dorm room upon heading to the bathroom down the hall and was stranded until my roommate returned, but I just didn’t care enough at that moment to actively try to contact her. 

A hand on my shoulder roused me from whatever reverie in which I was trapped, and I struggled to focus on the person in front of me.

“Hey, you okay? You look a little…off.” A giggle escaped my lips, something funny occurring to me that sober me would never remember.

“I’m perfect. And you?” Her brows drew down a bit in confusion or worry or something else, but she answered all the same.

“Probably better than you, seeing as I’m not drunk on a bench at eight P.M.” Her sweetly light voice sounded strange shaping such bluntly truthful words.

“Not drunk,” I informed her. It seemed important at the time.

“All the same. Doesn’t change things.”

“Probably true, babe.” 

“Cassie, actually.” 

“Cool. Have a good night, Cas,” I dismissed her. She left, and if there was more to that encounter, it would have to come from her brain, which, unlike mine, was unencumbered by chemicals at that moment in time.

After that, we were merely casual friends, mostly meeting on those weird nights where no plans are orchestrated, but you still end up drinking together in a parking lot or playing cards in some acquaintance’s apartment. I’m not even sure I had her phone number until we’d known each other for a couple years.

Over time, we learned about each other in snippets. She had a boyfriend who had nothing going for him other than his looks and his too-good-for-him girlfriend. I had a boyfriend who was sometimes not my boyfriend, but a large part of my life whether I was sleeping with him or other people. I had a penchant for ill-conceived schemes and chemicals of various types, a simmering wildness residing in my blood. She drank and allowed herself to be pulled along on joyrides and bad ideas with me and whoever else happened to be present but never directly contributed, and she often disappeared, finding or hailing a ride home without us.

Even then, we weren’t close. Never made plans or spoke until we ended up in the same place with drinks in our hands.

That changed a couple years later for no reason other than we saw each other every day.

I had an apartment at that time, and she was good friends with my roommate. She spent a lot of nights there, usually finding herself there whenever she wasn’t staying with her boyfriend.

A small stretch of time that fall found me once again single and restless, as I always tended to be without my boyfriend. Whether that happened to be due to lack of orgasms or something deeper, I wasn’t sure at the time. (It was both.)

The first time I ever saw her surprised at something I’d done was the night I brought home a member of the university’s soccer team. She was long and lean, all blonde waves and conventional beauty. I’d been with her twice before and never when sober. She kissed me hungrily, with the beer and whiskey on my breath meeting the too-sweet wine coolers on hers. She would guide my hand into her pants, and each time she would close her eyes and whisper that she wasn’t gay.

I’d just smile in return, nodding. _“Sure. That’s why you love my tits so much, huh?”_ I wouldn’t say. I understood how it felt to think you were wrong. That something inside you was warped or inherently broken.

I still didn’t much care for her. She was uselessly mean and extremely self-important. If I’d wanted to, I’m sure I could have psychoanalyzed her internalized homophobia and found reasons for her more irritating tendencies.

But, all I wanted from her was sex, a sentiment we conveniently shared. 

The apartment was supposed to be empty that night, but the moment my thumb found her clit, she moaned loudly, thrashing her head against the arm of the couch, and someone quietly shuffled down the hallway to find the source of the late-night noises.

My three-night stand didn’t notice, too wrapped up in the motions of my fingers, but my eyes met glistening dark ones, illuminated by the streetlight outside the living room’s inadequate window blinds. Her eyes were wide, startled. I grinned lazily before turning back to my ministrations, drunken haze keeping me from being able to concentrate for long on more than one thing. The girl underneath me missed the soft footfalls and click of the door latch as she groaned out first orgasm of the night.

The next morning, I woke slowly, pinned to the couch underneath a snoring, all-star striker. I dozed for a while more, and the next time I cracked open an eye, a wry smile met me over the back of the couch.

“Have fun?” My face scrunched up instinctively, pain bleeding through my skull and reminding me that my night of revelry wasn’t without consequence. She smirked.

“Absolutely.” A few more seconds and the fact that an entire person was lying on top of me became unignorably painful. “If she doesn’t get off me in two seconds, I’m going to suffocate or piss myself.”

Two things happened suddenly, then. The first thing that happened was that my lovely tryst rolled off of me and into the floor. The second was that she noticed we weren’t alone and immediately lost her fucking mind. There was yelling and tears and angry redressing. I tried to calm her down, assuring her that the third person in the room, who, honestly, had more reason to be there than her, wouldn’t tell anyone. She, unfortunately didn’t fucking care in the slightest.

“She’s right. I give zero shits about you and who you fuck. Like, _literally none._ ” More yelling ensued, which was really ramping up the pounding in my hungover head.

“Jesus fucking christ, calm down with your ‘I’m not gay’ bullshit. No one here is interested in outing you to anyone. We’re not assholes.” An inelegant snort came from behind me. “Well, not cruel ones.”

“There’s nothing to out!” she screams, stalking forward to get in my face. “I’m not a fag.”

I threw the punch without thinking. The sudden movement didn’t do much to help my aching head or rising nausea, but it mostly threw my equilibrium for a loop. I stumbled and she didn’t hesitate, catching me in the eye with a right cross.

It took all of five seconds. Cas stormed forward and shoved her hard toward the door.

“Get the fuck out. If you cause any shit for us, I’ll run my mouth to anyone I can find.”

The door slammed and my eyes watered. Lights were exploding behind my eyes in painful bursts as I remained curled on the floor where I’d fallen. Gentle hands helped me to the bathroom before I could vomit all over the carpet. A cold washcloth and toothpaste cup of tap water later found me in my bed with a rapidly swelling eye and Cas sprawled out beside me and flicking through a beaten-up copy of The Importance of Being Earnest from my bedside table.

If I’d been feeling better, the irony would have been too much for me to pass up without mentioning.

“So, do you regret anything?” She didn’t look over at me, and after a long moment, I turned my eyes back to the ceiling with a sigh.

“I should, but her tongue is so fucking talented. I’m angrier that she dropped the f-word at me than I am about getting punched in the face.” She chuckled and tossed the book toward my schoolbag in the corner. We shared the same European Lit class, so she probably had the same thoughts of irony as I did. She was just better at restraint than me.

“You’re a confusing person.” I huffed out a soft laugh, careful not to move my face too much.

“Would you really out her to people?” I asked after a few moments. She turned on her side, facing me. I rolled my still-aching head toward her.

“No. I think I’m a better person than she is.” Gazing back up at the ceiling, I smiled. So candidly truthful. It made me think of our first encounter.

“No argument here, babe.”

After that morning, things felt different between us. We talked more, became actual friends. Inside jokes and teasing insults were shared. I worried for her whenever she would choose not to leave her boyfriend. (As far as I knew, he never did anything to her except neglect her and expect her to be waiting when he wanted her again. I think she stayed with him more out of boredom than anything. If he was using her, she was using him right back.) She offered comfort, silent or otherwise, whenever I would fight with my boyfriend. She frankly, but not unkindly, suggested easing off the pharmaceuticals and booze.

She stayed with me when my grandpa died. When my best friend from home died not even a week later.

She and Jason bracketed me between them in my childhood bed after they’d made me throw up the bottle of wine and the sleeping pills I’d swallowed. The lights of two of the most important people in my life would never been seen again. I shook between them the entire night, and they never once let go.

I didn’t let go either. Not for a long time.

The next year was less intense for me. My major had the benefit of job offers after school, and Jason and I had finally gotten our shit together. I stopped self-medicating for the most part. I grew and learned more about myself, however cliché it might sound. She was right there, though. She stayed with her shitty boyfriend, but spent less time with him than she did with me and my roommates.

We graduated, her from the nursing program and me from the radiologic science one, and passed our respective registry exams. Jason and I got married. I moved an hour away. She moved three hours away in the opposite direction for a job that paid more than enough to ease the pain of leaving.

Our texts got less and less frequent. These things happen every day. It was both our faults and neither. I messaged her for her birthday and realized it had been six months since our last stilted conversation.

I gave birth to a son.

Life happened, as it tends to do.

Then, on a completely ordinary day, she messaged me. It had been a year since we’d last talked, much longer since we’d sat down face to face. She had finally, _finally_ , left her boyfriend, and was moving back in-state and to take a nursing job in my town. I dismissed her capslocked messages and called her. She had been with her boyfriend for eleven years, and despite however negatively I felt toward him, I was sure she felt much worse.

Her voice held anger, a little sadness, but mostly relief. As they’d gotten older, he strayed more often than not as she fell out of love with him. Tale as old as time.

She mentioned having to find a place to live very quickly since her parents, who had lived on the outskirts of our town, had found themselves childless once she left home and sold their house, bought an RV, and became essentially nomadic. I offered our guest room on the spot. She tried to decline, but I didn’t want her to be alone in a new apartment so soon after a break-up. She thanked me, and two days later, she moved in.

Reconnecting was natural. We fell back into sync like we hadn’t been separated for years. In a way, it felt like regression. We stayed up late and talked about our lives, watched movies, stalked people we used to know on Facebook, and fell asleep in the early hours on the couch.

Jason was happy to reconnect with her as well. They had shared a closeness borne of worrying over me, which was different from typical friendship but no less deeply felt. Their actual friendship blossomed until it was the three of us staying up late and leaving for work in the mornings exhausted but cheerful.

The change from friends to lovers happened very quickly, the complete opposite of how our friendship came to be in the first place.

Cas’ parents had driven across most of the country to see her and ended up in a riverbank campsite about thirty miles outside of town. She left on a Friday morning to spend the weekend with them.

Jason and I had made plans a couple days after Cas announced she would be away for the weekend. Even after being married for six years and dating off and on for the same prior to that, sex was still something we enjoyed often. Our son had only put a damper on that in the short few months it took me to recover from my cesarean section and us to get him on a semi-reliable sleep schedule. We’re adventurous and what some, read: most, might call kinky, which is partly to what I attribute our long-lasting libidos. Some of those adventures involved threesomes. We tried it a couple times before I became pregnant, and while most of them were just one-off occasions, one acquaintance in particular would intermittently message us whenever she felt like indulging.

We never turned her down.

Ava was beautiful, with lovely doe eyes and olive skin a few shades darker than mine. She was a couple inches shorter than me, which meant my husband, who was more than a foot taller than my 5’4” stature, absolutely dwarfed her.

But, I think that was exactly what she was hoping to find. In the bedroom, Jason and I typically fall into dominant and submissive roles, respectively. We’ve played with this dynamic in a myriad of ways, but with Ava, it was different. Upon our first meeting with her, which was casual and nonsexual since we didn’t know her very well beforehand, she had one request: to be worked over thoroughly by both of us.

Which we promptly shot down. Too much, too fast, but if she was willing, we _would_ play. Perhaps not as intensely as she wanted right away, but more could follow if we were all amenable after the encounter in question. We all laughed a bit too hard, egged on by nerves, about how it all sounded like a business transaction.

But it worked out. Then it worked out even better. And again.

It was perfect timing when she messaged us mere hours after Cas had finalized plans with her parents.

Jason and I spent a lazy Friday together while our kid was spending the weekend with his grandparents. Ava came over Saturday afternoon, and we went straight to the bedroom with very few words. Within half an hour, she was tied to our bed with Jason wielding a flogger over her and me tongue-deep inside of her.

Which was apparently the time that Cas, who had decided to come back early due to flooding, chose to come back and walk past our room to get to hers. Our room with the open door.

Honestly, I didn’t even notice, and Ava was a bit too preoccupied to do much more than moan brokenly. Jason was the one who shared a moment of flabbergasted eye contact with her before she turned and left the house, presumably to expedite the agreement to the apartment she had applied for a few days earlier.

We continued with our plan to reduce Ava to a boneless puddle of satiated happiness and then pamper and cuddle her within an inch of her life.

Cas didn’t come back until long after the moon had broken through the clouds. By that time, Ava had gone, and Jason had filled me in on the explicit imagery Cas would have in her mind for the rest of her life.

I wasn’t too worried, a similar but much less graphic memory floated to the surface from college, but it _was_ a very jarring thing to stumble upon. She smoked through half a pack of cigarettes on our porch as I regaled her with our threesome history. She had a lot of questions, but none of them were rude or judgmental. She was _curious._ She asked about kinks, and power dynamics, and finally, my bisexuality. More precisely, when I knew that I was bisexual.

I answered her as best as I could. Gave her a couple websites that I had come across with more information about sexual identities, and we went to our respective beds. The next morning, it was business as usual. We fixed breakfast and ate together, Jason and I went and picked up our kid, and she went to see her parents, who were staying at a hotel nearby until their campsite dried out enough for them to return.

She moved out not too long after that. Her apartment application had been accepted, and while the thought of having her in our bed had occurred to us, we never brought it up. She had to figure things out for herself before jumping into something like that, no matter how much we were lusting after her.

Funnily enough, even after getting her own place, she was at our house almost as much as she was before moving. Again, life continued the same as if she never left.

About a month after The Incident, we were spending another weekend childless, only this time, the three of us were having a Star Wars marathon night. We had each picked one to watch, in no particular order. After finishing The Force Awakens and halfway through The Empire Strikes Back, she turned to me and said, “I think I might be bisexual, and if I wanted you to fuck me, would you be into it?”

Jason paused the movie.

For a long moment, all I did was look directly into her eyes. They were beautiful and dark, an innocence that didn’t match her blunt disposition or the question she had just brazenly asked. I followed her forthrightness.

“I’d be into it,” I trailed off and glanced over at Jason who was lounging in the chair beside the couch. Despite her and me sitting on the couch, she was positioned between us. Fitting, I thought.

“So would I,” he answered my unspoken question. Silence stretched as she gazed thoughtfully at the floor and Jason and I juggled between giving each other eager looks and trying to calmly let her gather her thoughts.

“Um, could Jason just watch?” She glanced and him but quickly looked back to me. Behind her, he nodded. I could have answered even without his visible assent.

“Of course.” She nodded and looked back to the floor. I tried to remember seeing her ever look uncomfortable and came up empty. It was something I admired about her. Nothing she did ever seemed unsure, and she definitely didn’t get embarrassed about most things. “Look, we aren’t novices at this kinda thing. I wouldn’t say we’re exceptionally accomplished, but it wouldn’t be our first rodeo. Just take a breath and relax. Stop looking at us like we’re gonna take you to the basement to play master and slave.” She chuckled and her muscles visibly loosened.

“First off, we aren’t doing anything tonight. We’re going to finish Empire and then watch Jedi, and go to bed like we usually do. We’ll talk about this tomorrow once everyone’s had some time to think about it.”

“Okay. That sounds good. But, uh,” she tapered off, but didn’t look down. “Can I kiss you?” Again, my eyes flicked to Jason, but I knew his answer before he even nodded. He looked just as hungry as I felt. I wasn’t submissive to him anywhere but the bedroom, but for the both of us, constant consent was more or less how we operated on a daily basis. It’s what kept our marriage as drama-free as possible, which is how we preferred it to be.

“Yes, you can kiss me.” She grinned and leaned toward me across the couch, scooting until she was flush against me, all but laying on my front between my legs. _That_ was the unapologetic Cas I knew. Her lips were soft as she chastely pressed them to mine, a stark contrast in how she was pressed so tightly against me. I ran a hand through her hair, smiling into the kiss as her bangs tickled my forehead. The slight glide of her hours-old lipstick helped her ease her way into something more open-mouthed and feverish. I didn’t wait for her to gather her courage to slip me her tongue, just pulled her closer and licked my way into her mouth.

She gasped and let out a tiny, pleased hum. Her arms were wrapped around my neck, her hands cupping the back of my head as she became more brazen and comfortable. After another few minutes, I opened my eyes and caught Jason’s heated expression. I grinned and pulled back. I swiped at her mouth a couple times with a thumb and forefinger to rid her of the lipstick that had only survived outside of her lips, and she giggled and did the same for me. Her face was slightly flushed and we were both panting slightly. The weight of her on top of me and the heaving of her breasts against mine was driving me wild, but we had to talk first. Give her time to make sure this was what she wanted.

“Hot damn. No wonder you can get girls into your bed so easily.” I rolled my eyes.

“It’s actually quite difficult. Lots of logistics first.” She scooted down my body and rested her head against my belly.

“I guess I’ll find out, huh?”

“You get to skip most of the logistics,” Jason informed her.

“Fantastic,” she said. “So, are you gonna start the movie back up or what?” Jason also rolled his eyes at her, but complied. Both of us rolling our eyes at her within seconds of each other spoke to how much fun we might be able to have later if this experiment continued.

***  
It seemed that having a night to sleep on the decision had only emboldened Cas, so the part where Jason and I usually ask questions about what kind of things the other person wants out of our encounter was taken up by Cas telling us exactly what she would be comfortable with and what she wouldn’t. Not one coaxing or calming word needed. She explained how she felt attracted to women for years, but didn’t notice it for what it was until after her relationship had all but ended. She wanted to give it a try without bells or whistles. Just two girls and their mouths and fingers. With the husband of one of them watching. Simple.

Almost as an afterthought, she added, “Also, I’m clean. I got tested after the break-up, and I haven’t gotten any since.”

“We’re clean too. It’s something we do pretty often, given our preferences.” 

“You’re kind of perfect at this whole pre-threesome sex talk,” Jason told her between sips of coffee.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about this for like a month.”

“So, basically since you saw us with Ava.”

“Yes, but no flogging. Yet, anyway.” She winked at him.

“Stop trying to seduce us.” I found their flirtatious banter comforting and ate the rest of my eggs and toast while the conversation washed over me. He was flirting with her, but I was going to have her under me later while he sat and watched. I grinned into my tea.

We decided to go to out and mess around, grabbing a quick lunch before perusing a book store and forcing Jason into following us around Ulta for a good hour. He was a good sport about it, but it probably had more to do with what he would be witnessing later rather than being nice.

The ride back home was quiet save for the radio, all of us anticipating what would happen when we got home. As soon as all of us were inside, Cas pressed me up against the front door and kissed me with what must have been years of pent-up bisexual frustration. At some point during the mouth-to-mouth assault, lost in a frantic pull of tongue and teeth, I dropped the bags I was holding in order to wrap my arms around her back and pull her flush against me. Jason muttered something about picking up after us and grabbed our bags to set them on the dining room table.

After a long and heated few moments, she pulled back with one last nip to my bottom lip and grinned at me.

“Let’s fuckin’ do this,” she said, breathlessly. Her enthusiasm was absolutely infectious, and I found myself unable to stop grinning back at her.

Years of close familiarity had made me privy to her sexual history. She had been a virgin before meeting her ex and had never strayed. He was painfully vanilla and, while he was very eager to make her come, he was only marginally successful and typically unwilling to try anything resembling boldness unless it involved fitness. I almost always stay out of friends’ issues unless invited to give an opinion, and she never asked, so I never offered much more than commiseration. I assume it’s because she knew my feelings on the matter and didn’t need them verbalized.

Emboldened by her zeal, I grasped her hand and pulled her along to the bedroom where Jason was already waiting in the chair in the corner, reading something on his phone. I huffed out a laugh.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not going to watch this.” His body language remained completely unaffected, but when his eyes flicked up to me, they were _burning_ with excitement. After all, we had been lusting after Cas for a long time.

“I don’t know, I might get bored,” he deadpanned.

“Bullshit.” I went over to him and kissed him, running my hand over his crotch, feeling the beginnings of an erection. “You don’t feel bored.” He pulled me closer with one large hand wrapped around the back of neck and surged forward, his lips crashing into mine and owning my mouth. It was the kind of kiss which never failed to make me wet and ache for something rough. He leaned back all too soon and rested his forehead against mine.

“Make it good,” he ordered, voice deep. I swallowed and closed my eyes, composing myself a bit as he let me go and nudged me toward the bed with a light push. Cas was already sitting in the middle of the bed watching us with interest. I climbed on facing her and began placing light kisses down the side of her neck, noting each spot that made her breath hitch.

Sleeping with someone new is always exciting in a way that can’t be duplicated. Even if it’s someone familiar, their bodies aren’t, and exploring that newfound territory has always been one of my favorite activities. I relish kissing them all over, finding ticklish spots or places that make them moan. My hands were under her shirt stroking lines over her ribs and down the small of her back as my lips and tongue and teeth explored both sides of her neck, smiling at the gasp I received when I grazed my teeth against the dip just above her clavicle.

I gripped the bottom of her shirt and leaned back just long enough to slip the fabric over her head. In seconds, my mouth was back on her, kissing down her chest into the well between her breasts, my fingers deftly unclasping her bra in record time. I continued laying kisses to her tits as I pulled the cups away from her completely, teasingly mouthing in smaller circles around one nipple. I felt hands around the back of my head as she moved me over her nipple. I bit lightly, and she let me go, as I raised an eyebrow at her assuredness.

“You know how I am. It’s not much different in the bedroom.”

“I can see that. That’s okay, though. I want you to let me know what you like.” I took my shirt and sports bra off in one motion and pushed her backward, following her down and settling us at a good angle for Jason, who was definitely _not_ on his phone. I winked at him cheekily as I brushed my tits over hers and let her pull me into another searing kiss. A tentative hand reached up and cupped my breast, rubbing lightly. I moaned softly into her mouth, and, reassured, she squeezed a bit more and ran her fingers over my nipple.

While she was preoccupied, I leaned to one side and slipped a hand down her stomach and into the top of her pants. She gasped and stopped rolling my nipple between her fingertips as I slid my hand all the way into her pants and over the soft hair there to rub at her clit. Her muscles went momentarily taut, and she let out a quiet hum of satisfaction.

“Pants off, then?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” I grinned. Sliding off the side of the bed, I pulled her pants down her legs and completely off, dropping them to the floor and taking in the sight of her spread out on the bed under me.

She gazed at me under low lashes as my eyes roamed her body, appreciating the smooth expanse of her skin and how her chest and abdomen moved with each breath. I ran a hand up her calf and leaned in to press a soft kiss to the inside of her ankle. Kissing up her legs, alternating from one to the other, my hands caressed her thighs, smoothing over them as goosebumps overtook more and more territory. By the time I rubbed two fingers against her clit over her adorable pink underwear, she was soaking through them and gripping at my wrists.

“Please, please touch me,” she begged softly, so different from her usual crass demeanor. She was beautiful. I stroked a bit harder, unable to stop my smile at how wrecked she sounded just from a bit of kissing and stroking. I leaned over and hooked my fingers in her underwear, pulling them off her and crawling back over her.

“Is that what you really want?” I asked, teasing, but more curious about what it was she would ask for.

“Yes,” she panted, as I continued to rub small circles over her clit. I lowered my lips to her ear, letting them drag against the shell of it with each word.

“Would you like me to touch you or lick you?”

“Ugh, fuck.” Her head was thrown back against the bed, eyes shut tightly. I stopped moving my fingers, but kept them against her. She was so wet that I could smell her pussy from where I was, her juices soaking my fingers and the bedspread beneath us. She looked up at me suddenly when I ceased my ministrations.

“Well, you’d better answer me if you want me to continue.”

“Fucking eat me out, then.” I heard a huff of laughter from Jason’s corner, but I didn’t look up at him. Too preoccupied.

“Hm, bossy aren’t you?” I smirked, but slid down her body all the same until my face was level with her cunt. I stretched her legs apart and bent her knees out so that she was spread open for me, her pussy swollen and glistening. I leaned in and lapped at her folds, relishing the sharp taste against my tongue as she groaned and wove her fingers into my hair. My tongue slid up her slit and back down again, drawing out every sound I could, lost in the softness of her. As I sucked on her clit, I pressed two slick fingers into her pussy, crooking upward and rubbing, trying to figure out what worked best for her. The only feedback I was receiving were little proclamations of “yes” between moans and expletives.

I was fairly certain that I was doing okay.

The thigh I was holding began to quiver and tighten as I quickened the pace with my fingers, lapping at her and alternating long licks with short up-and-down flicks over her clit. I could hear Jason slide his zipper down and sigh as he, presumably, started stroking himself. Even tongue-deep in someone else, I was hyperaware of his presence.

Mere moments later, she came screaming, thighs clenched around me and holding my head tightly against slit, her hips coming up off the bed to rub circles against my still working mouth until every bit of her orgasm had been wrung out of her. I sat up and wiped at my face, feeling very pleased with myself and stretched out next to her on my side, my head propped up on an elbow. I drew lazy lines across her chest with my fingers, invisibly mapping routes from clavicle to clavicle and sternum to nipple as she recovered. Once her pulse was no longer visibly jumping in her neck, she turned to me and pulled me into a kiss, soft and languid, her tongue pulling the taste of herself out of my mouth and into her own. When I pulled back, her eyes were heavy-lidded and glistening, pupils still blown wide.

“You’re way better at that than my ex was.” We giggled and wrapped around each other for a few minutes, falling into a comfortable silence. I was dripping wet and longing to either be touched or to touch myself, but I was also unwilling to break the spell of what had just happened.

Cas hadn’t lost her virginity _per se_ , but she had done something very new, which can be frightening, even for someone as steadfast as she.

So, I continued holding her and rubbing circles into her scalp as she drifted. I cut a glance over to Jason whose pants were still undone, but he wasn’t touching himself. He was just slouched back, resting his head back and watching us with sleepy eyes like he’d been the one to have a screaming orgasm. He hadn’t, I knew. After years of sleeping with the man, I knew each and every one of his noises and groans. He offered me a lazy smile that I returned. We were happy. Things had gone well, and we were both glad for it.

After some time, Cas stirred and disentangled herself enough to sit up against the pillows. I blinked sleepily at her.

“You okay?”

“I am fantastic,” she replied, turning to look at me. “I would like to return the favor, i-if that’s alright?” She was looking me in the eye, gaze unwavering, but the slight waver in her voice betrayed her nerves.

“Of course, but you don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Well, I won’t turn you down. You can stop anytime, though, and no one will be mad, yeah?” She simply nodded and moved toward me.

I was still dressed from the waist down, but my jeans and black lace panties came off easily for her, and in seconds, she was kneeling between my legs and kissing at the bend of my hip, smiling when I groaned at her tongue sliding over one of my more sensitive spots hear my hip bone. She dipped a finger slightly inside me and then lifted it to her mouth thoughtfully. I chuckled at her almost clinical disposition, but Jason moaned at the sight of her sucking her finger into her mouth to taste me.

For the first time since we’d entered the bedroom, she looked over to him, his hand was back on his cock, stroking lightly and watching us intently.

“Well, c’mon. Come over here and make sure I do this right. I want to make the missus happy,” she informed him playfully. Jason didn’t ask for further confirmation. He crawled onto the bed beside us and ran a hand down my chest and over my stomach, stopping with his fingertips brushing right above my clit.

“Start here. Long, slow licks.” As Cas bent down to follow his instructions, he shot me a wicked smile. The game was clear. Could I last long enough for him to let me come or would I end up begging him first?

I knew this game well, and I am too much of a pleasure-seeker to ever win. I’ve held out valiantly before, but in the end, I just really prefer orgasms over the lack thereof.

I rested my forearms over my eyes as she licked me slowly, flicking her tongue over my clit over and over, but not with nearly enough pressure. I moaned and tried to push my hips up toward her face for more friction, but Jason put a hand against my stomach and lightly pushed me back down.

“That’s perfect. Now, try dipping your tongue just inside her, like you did with your fingers.” She did as he told her, and I cried out. It was good, but _not enough._ “Run your tongue along her folds, suck right there, yeah, that’s it.”

So, another product from sleeping with someone for a long time is that they learn how to play your body like a finely-tuned instrument. Jason is capable of eating me out and keeping me on edge for so long that by the time I come, I am a sobbing, sopping wet mess who instantly turns into a boneless puddle.

And Cas is a fantastic rule-follower. One plus one equals tormented me.

“Why are you teaming up on me?” I whined before breaking off into a moan when Jason reached down to rest a hand none-too-lightly against my throat.

“Be nice, now,” he chided, his tone teasing, which made my situation worse. His voice is one of the many things I find sexy about him.

It goes on like that for what feels like an eternity. Cas happily fucking me with her tongue and fingers and drawing noises from me that are becoming more and more desperate by the second. She was caught up in the game as well and was fucking winning. If Jason hadn’t been directing her, it would have been impossible to believe that this was her first time eating pussy.

All it took from her was one more slightly too-light tongue-lashing against my clit, and I caved. Hard.

“Fuck, please, please, make me come,” I cried out, breaths coming fast and deep. Jason hadn’t even spoken to her in a while. The smug bastard was propped up against the headboard beside me and stroking his fingers through my hair, whispering such filthy things into my ear that I was dizzy with both the very real and current image of Cas between my legs and the mental images that Jason was painting for me.

“How about it, Cas? You done?” Jason asked, nonchalantly. She didn’t answer, but she did grin at both of us before pulling the trick I had used on her and sucking hard on my clit and slipping two fingers inside of me and setting a punishing pace.

There’s something to be said for innate abilities.

Jason leaned down and whispered, “Now,” and the reaction was nearly immediate. I reached down and pressed Cas’ mouth against me more tightly, moaning brokenly and riding it out until I was wrung out. 

Somewhere above me, I heard Jason ask, “Can I kiss you?” I was about to answer, “Well, we’re married, so…” until I opened my eyes and saw Cas and Jason kissing, her face still wet from my cunt and his face quickly becoming the same.

It was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. First encounters almost never turn out this perfectly. It’s normal for someone to not quite get over the edge or for mishaps caused by an unknown factor to cause the whole affair to devolve into laughter.

This, though. This was something special, and none of us needed to say it out loud. Whether it turned into something new or just continued to be a friends-with-benefits situation, it was different than most.

Once Jason and Cas had parted, he leaned over me and caught my lips in a kiss, sweet and very different from what he and Cas had been doing seconds earlier. I could taste myself on him, and licked into his mouth, knowing he wanted more but was waiting for an indication from me. I pulled back from him and stroked a hand through his hair.

“You can fuck me, I’m okay.”

“You sure?” Sometimes the overstimulation is too much, but having him participate so indirectly had driven me wild, and I ached for him even as the aftershocks were still throbbing inside me. I nodded. He left the bed briefly to grab something from the box in the floor of our closet, but came back soon enough, holding a small, black bullet in his hand.

Flipping me onto my stomach, he slid a pillow under my hips, the movements and feelings familiar to both of us. I turned to look at Cas, who was sitting on the bed next to me. Her lips were still swollen and red, hair a bit of a mess, but she looked sated and happy.

“You still okay?” My voice sounded a little ragged already, and I couldn’t imagine what it might sound like after Jason was finished with me.

“I’m great. I’ve never seen anyone have sex before outside of porn, so this is a day full of new things.” I chuckled, and rested my cheek against my arm as Jason undressed.

“So, you bi?”

“That’d be a yes, I think.” My smile dropped from my face as Jason slipped the vibe under me and onto my clit, turning the dial and bringing it buzzing to life. I moaned long and loud, burying my face into the bedspread. Jason moved behind me and nudged my legs apart, settling between them and wasting no time in sliding inside me. His arms were resting on the bed on either side of my head as he began to thrust, his weight and our position all but immobilizing me with a delicious pressure.

His thrusts were slow and deep at first, but watching Cas and I had clearly riled him up, and he began to gain speed quickly. I fisted my hands in the blankets as he began to fuck me in earnest, my loud moans punctuated by his short exhalations and the slap of skin on skin with every thrust.

“You feel so fucking good, you’re so good, fucking christ,” he was all but growling as he took me, the vibe still happily buzzing away against my abused clit, which was very quickly tumbling me toward a second orgasm.

“Ah, fuck,” I answered him. Anything more eloquent was awash in my dopamine-soaked brain. My muscles began to tighten as my moans turned into sobs, my pleasure spiking and becoming tinged with the pain of overstimulation. “I’m gonna come, _fuck_ , I’m gonna—“

“Come for me, baby, come on my cock,” he cut me off, moving somehow faster as he chased his own orgasm. The pressure of him on top of me mixed with my pelvis being driven into the insistent vibe over and over tipped me over the edge, and I came hard, absolutely wailing with the release of it all. Jason groaned as I clenched around him, and I felt him spill into me, thrusting shallowly a handful of times before stilling to catch his breath. “Good girl, so perfect,” he whispered into my hair as I began to wiggle to dislodge the vibe, no longer directly on my clit, but close enough to be making itself known.

He pulled out and gently reached under me to grab it, the buzzing making way for a loud silence as he twisted it off. The bed dipped as Cas laid down beside me, face next to mine as I tried to catch my breath.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life.” I lifted one corner of my mouth into a half smile, exhaustion quickly overtaking me.

“I’m glad you enjoyed the show.” I could feel Cas’ gaze on us the entire time, but she never made a move to become involved. She just watched. I found myself wanting to ask her if she would be interested in doing something with all three of us participating at the same time, but I didn’t voice it. I was too fucked out for anything more than lying down and not moving.

Sometime later, when I was pressed between them in a way that was reminiscent of a different era, she answered my question anyway.

“I would be so down to do this again with all three of us.”

“Mmhm,” was the only reply I could muster, but Jason laughed and just hugged me tighter.

“We would love to.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to anyone who read this. I know OC stuff doesn't get a lot of love here, but I appreciate anyone who took the time to read it. <3


End file.
